The Meaning
by Galaxy-Defending-Hopeful
Summary: What if there was a girl in common between the songs Saturday Night, Down By The Lake, She Falls Asleep and Down Goes Another One? A quiet, sad girl, with low self confidence. It's easy to imagine, really...Essentially a song-fic, but with a difference. Swearing, suicide and depression. Rather sad.


Hayley was fourteen when she was invited to a party, that Saturday. She attended, of course – how could she not? She was the quiet kid, the fat kid, the one with no friends. But suddenly, in her email, was the message.

'2 evry1 in my form

cum 2 my hs 2nite!

BIG prty! Beer, no prnts, lots f FUN!

8 til late!

Bring ur swimming gear!

-mitch'

Terse, abbreviated and slightly annoying. Typically, Hayley would have ignored the message, but something in her made her take notice. Mitch, the boy who had invited everyone, only lived a couple of roads away. If she told her parents (particularly her domineering father) that she was going to be with friends (which was TECHNICALLY true, she was sure that one or two of her gaggle of 'friends' would be attending the party) then she wouldn't arouse suspicion. Smiling, she packed her swimming costume and a small towel into her shoulder bag, and flicked through her wardrobe to find a vaguely party-like outfit.

Hayley was slightly shocked when she arrived. The house had already been teepeed with so much toilet paper that it looked mummified, and the front garden was covered in empty beer bottles and the occasional passed out drunk person. She was dressed in a short, tight skirt and a tube top, as well as high heels – three things which her father most certainly didn't know that she owned. She had slipped her huge winter coat on over it to hide her attire when she said goodbye to her father (he insisted that she did), which she had shed into the porch upon leaving. Timidly, she entered through the front door. Music blasted out at her – it sounded like it had once been rock, but it was pumped up so loudly that it was impossible to tell. People were staggering about, drinking and dancing. Several couples lay snogging on the stairs.

"Hey! Hayley! Wow, you look hot for once!" drunkenly slurred Mitch, approaching her. "If you want a drink, there are some bottles by the sink – no parents or anyone to check if you're underage!"

She smiled, and decided immediately that she would only have one, as she intended upon swimming. Slipping into the kitchen, she selected a bottle, cracked it open with one of the bottle openers that were strewn around, and took a fortifying gulp. Then, she glanced out of the window into the garden. In the centre was a vast, circular pool, blue and clear. Boys and girls were splashing around in it, apparently having a great time.

"You can get changed in the bedroom." someone told her, apparently mistaking her moments of still as moments of confusion. She nodded, and quickly gulped back half the bottle of beer. Then, she walked firmly up the stairs, zipping around the couples, and through a half open door. A couple of people were changing into costume. No time for modesty, Hayley decided, giggling at the thought of her father's face if he could see her now!

Once in her costume (a tankini, which showed off her figure rather nicely) Hayley walked back downstairs, towel in one hand, beer in the other. She felt pretty good. She'd never had alcohol before, and she had certainly never been called hot before. Walking out into the garden, she dropped the towel amid a pile of them, and lowered herself into the pool. She'd been in for barely a second before some hands slipped around her waist.

"Get off!" she squealed, pushing them away. Turning around, she saw Mitch himself, dressed in tiny speedos.

"Chill out, Hayley – have another beer." he smiled at her. She shook her head and downed the rest of her bottle, before getting back out of the pool, wrapping her towel around her and going into the kitchen. On the side was a bowl labelled 'fruit punch'. There were no glasses, so Hayley dipped her bottle in, letting it fill with the pink liquid. Swigging it, it tasted like strawberries and something else – it almost felt like it was scalding her lips, despite it being perfectly cold.

After a couple of bottles of the 'fruit punch', Hayley's mind was fuzzing over. Her reactions a little slower. She felt damn good, but it was slightly strange. Shaking her head to dispel any bad thoughts, she grabbed another beer and headed back out to the pool. Straight in the deep end. Boys and girls were swimming, floating...and doing something else. When hands encircled her waist again, she didn't complain.

"Wanna go behind the shed?" a coarse voice whispered in her ear. The breath smelt of whiskey. Mitch. She laughed. Her daddy. Her fucking bastard of a daddy. He'd love to see this. He was so controlling...such a bitch...

"Sure."

Twenty minutes later, they were done. Mitch helped her re-adjust her costume and told her,

"You're cute, Hayley. We should go out."

"Yeah..."

Just as she said it, Hayley dropped down to the floor. Asleep. Mitch laughed, and managed to carry her up to his parents room, the only undisturbed room, where he tucked her under the duvet.

The next day, Hayley arrived home slightly bedraggled and with a splitting headache. As soon as she opened the door, her father came storming down the hall.

"Where were you last night, you disgusting little whore?" he spat, clenching his fists.

"With friends, I told you."

"LIAR!" he bellowed, thumping a fist on the wall. "You were at that party, weren't you?"

"I was with friends at the party. I didn't exactly lie, did I?" Hayley flared up in a rare show of her temper, scowling at her father. He reacted immediately – his hand flew out and slapped her hard across the face.

"You filthy little cow. You were drinking, weren't you?"

"I had some punch. I didn't exactly go wild, did I?"

He stared at her, his face contorted. "Get out of my sight." he hissed.

* * *

Hayley picked up the phone. Her sister. She sighed, and answered it.

"You'd better get home – daddy's awake. He says he saw you last night making out by the lake."

"Oh...fuck."

Hayley tapped Mitch on the shoulder – they were in his bed. "I've got to go, daddy's awake."

He groaned. "I can't wait for his next business trip – we're better off when your daddy is out of town."

Hayley traced the small star tattoo on Mitch's foot, her other hand rested on his chest. "I love you."

"I love you too, baby."

Dressing quickly, Hayley left the house that she had come to think of as more a home than her technical address and took the short walk home.

"I have no problem with you seeing a lad-" Hayley mentally sighed at his old-fashioned terminology, but nodded, "But I would prefer someone a bit more worthy. I mean, he looks pretty cute, I'll give you that, but he doesn't have the grades! Have you seen the star on his foot, the way he behaves?"

"Daddy, Mitch is my best friend. I love him, daddy." Hayley smiled a little when she thought of her and Mitch's plans, if they could secure her parents signatures (Mitch's parents had already signed, thoroughly impressed by his devotion to Hayley, and her sweet nature). Marriage.

"Nonsense. You're sixteen, you don't know what love is."

"Daddy...me and Mitch want to get married. His parents and mum have already signed the forms...we just need you to. If you say no, we'll just wait two years, until we can do it without consent. Please, will you just sign the forms?"

He stared at her, and fell into one of his old rages. They had been much better under control since his timid wife had arranged anger management sessions for him, but the anger still bubbled potently under the surface. "You stupid little bitch! Of course I won't sign the forms – you're not going to waste your life with that pathetic little layabout!"

Hayley stood there calmly, observing her father. "We're getting married, daddy, and there's nothing you can do about it."

The two teenagers stood together at the airport, waiting patiently for their plane. To hawaii – the rules there were different, and they could legally marry without their parents consent.

"I'm sorry we have to do it like this." Hayley murmured, taking hold of Mitch's arm.

"Baby, don't say sorry. Your father isn't your responsibility. Chill out, m'love."

Two days later they were married.

* * *

Hayley sat alone in her flat. It was her eighteenth birthday. It was the 1 month anniversary of Mitch storming out, leaving her...

"I can't do this any more, Hayley. I thought that you and your father were different people – you're exactly the same really. I can't do it!" he had quietly said. Ignoring Hayley's sobs, he had walked out with one small suitcase – and never come back. Every phone call, every text...Hayley's heart would leap, hope would rise inside of her. But it was never him. He was her reason to live, but now he was gone. As she sorted out her preparations, her mind wandered over the past four years. That illicit party when she was only fourteen. Their two years of dating. Their marriage. The almost two years of bliss, before the arguments. His smile. Mitch's laugh was seemingly permanently etched into her mind – so beautiful. Sitting by the front door, Hayley slipped the pills into her mouth and gulped them down with a glass of water. Tears began to flow as she slumped down. Seconds after she drew her last, peaceful breaths, finally relieved that she didn't have to live a life without Mitch any more, he started to climb the stairs, unaware that she had been hurting so badly.

* * *

Mitch sat alone in an old, greasy café, silently thinking. If only he'd just been a few seconds quicker. If only he had given her another chance. If only he had come back to check on her. Blames and guilt ran through his mind like water trickling into a lake, and soon the tears began to drip down his face and into his black coffee. He closed his eyes, but suddenly forced them open again. Every time he closed his eyes, he was no longer alone. There Hayley would be, dressed in her favourite red jeans and blue T-shirt, laughing, or in her tankini, regressed to an innocent fourteen year old again. She wasn't really there, though. She was gone. How was he supposed to know just how fragile she was? Diary entries that were recovered by the police from the flat detailed a long depression. A desire to kill herself dating back to when she was thirteen. It seemed that he had been the only thing keeping her alive – how was he to know that he needed to read between the lines? As Mitch finished his coffee, he realised that with her death, he too had died. Hayley was his everything, and yet now she was nothing.


End file.
